Darkness
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Jane is having problems dealing. Maura comes to her side. M for content, some Rizzles. Cowritten with Googlemouth
1. Chapter 1

This story deserves a warning more than M for mature audiences, and we're taking this first post to cover a few very important things before we post the story.

The subject matter in this story touches on suicide. If you _ever_ have these thoughts, we urge you to speak with someone. Please. There are people out there who will listen and really do care. You're not alone.

There's no shame in asking for help, and it's not a sign of weakness to admit you need it. It takes more strength to ask than it does to leave. If you don't feel you have it, there are people here who will happily, gladly offer up their strength for you to use as your own.

We're listing places to go if you or someone you know needs to talk. It doesn't matter what time or what day, there are always people available through these places. Please, use the references if you feel you may need them. No one thought of suicide should ever be ignored. You matter. Believe it.

1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK)  
1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)  
US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

For the hearing impaired in the US

1-800-799-4TTY (4889)

For lines by US state, please check Suicidehotlines DOT com

Save DOT org

Suicidepreventionlifeline DOT org

* * *

**This was cowritten with Googlemouth, a wonderful partner that I'm very thankful to be able to write with.**

**As always, the characters aren't ours. They belong to TNT and ****Tess Gerristen.**


	2. Chapter 2

Jane sat on her sofa. She had been sitting in that same spot, in that same position, since she came home from work. She hadn't bothered to change or eat or even turn on the television. She had just sat, unmoving.

The sounds of her empty apartment echoed around her.

She was on active duty now, but Joe was still with her parents. She didn't have the heart to take the little dog back; she looked so happy and contented at her parent's house. Jane wanted at least someone to be happy and contented.

Maura had asked her to go to dinner earlier, but she'd declined. She had been doing that a lot recently, declining Maura's invitations, everyone's really. She just didn't feel up to going out, and she was tired of everyone tiptoeing around her whenever something came up about the shooting, which seemed to happen often.

She was tired of a lot of things.

She was tired of everyone being careful around her all the time. She was tired of her mother's increased harping to find a new job, a husband, and a new life. She was tired of Frankie being so quiet and mousey around her; he never joked with her like he used to. She was tired of her coworkers avoiding her gaze or trying to make her feel like a hero. She was neither a curse to be avoided nor a hero to be lauded. She was just herself as she always had been. She was tired of dodging the press; they were still trying to get statements from her. She was tired of what felt like a constant string of inquiries from the precinct; the amount of politicians who wanted to use her in one way or another was taking its toll. She was tired of not feeling good enough because she couldn't move like she used to. She was tired of the increased nightmares. It wasn't just Hoyt anymore. She dreamed about that day, and it haunted her. Maura's terror stricken eyes when she rushed to her side, Frankie's practically dead body, the feel of the bullet entering her body… they haunted her.

Jane was just tired.

Sighing, she looked down at the gun in her hand. "Some days, you're the bullet. Some days, you're the victim," she murmured as she popped the clip out and made sure the chamber was empty. "No, not today. I promised Maura I'd go to dinner with her tomorrow," she winced, pain shooting from her new scar, as she leaned forward to place the gun and clip on her coffee table.

Her phone rang, the "Funeral March" playing through the eerie quiet of the apartment. "No, Maura," she whispered into the silence as she lay down on the sofa, ignoring the phone.

* * *

Maura's finger hovered over End Call for a moment before lowering, cutting off the electronic voice instructing her to leave a message. Messages didn't get answered these days; last time she'd tried to leave one, Jane's voicemail box had been full, and she knew Jane didn't answer her land line, either. She ran a finger through curls that no longer bounced cheerfully. "Jane," she sighed into her empty kitchen, and picked up the phone again to dial.

_"Luckie Spuckie, how may I help you?"_

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


	3. Chapter 3

A key turned in the lock. The door opened and closed. Keys jingled, paper rustled. Cupboards and drawers opened and closed, all without Maura uttering a single word, or even looking around for Jane, who was invisible from her angle. Only when the dining table was set and the meal displayed in all its comforting, white collar glory did Maura even bother looking for Jane, whom she hadn't noticed on the sofa. She hadn't been blind to the changes in Jane. Physical recovery was only the first of many challenges to Jane A. S. (After Shooting). She had complained of boredom, uselessness, annoyance. But when Maura saw the classic signs of social withdrawal, she was determined to act against Jane's stated wishes, but in concordance with her best interests. Comfort food, friendship, whatever Jane needed.

Beginning her walk-through, Maura headed back for the bedroom. No luck. Bathroom? Still no Jane. Only on the way out did she come face to face with the sight of her best friend, sprawled on the couch, with a gun near hand. Her face turned ashen as a deep, shuddering breath rattled through her chest and throat, a wordless sob that filled her lungs to bursting even before her eyes had had time to develop a tearing response.

"No," the word was more guttural. In Jane's sleep, she was dreaming again. She was fighting again. "Shoot him," she mumbled as her dream self struggled. Her muscles tensed, sweat glistened on her brow, as her hands gripped the sofa.

Maura pressed a hand to her chest, as if that could help her racing heart to slow down. Her response had been illogical, unthought out. She should have seen the lack of visible wounds or bleeding, should have noted the tension in Jane's body, the perspiration, the rapid breathing, but none of it had registered. For a moment, there she was again, watching Jane point her gun and fire it into her own body, falling to the hard concrete as red spray became trickle and gush.

Sound brought her back to the present, Jane's voice protesting and calling for backup, for someone to do the hard thing, take the risk of the impossible shot. She wouldn't have to call again. Maura flew into motion, snatching the gun off the coffee table and setting it on top of the television so that Jane wouldn't grab it in her sleep. With no idea of whether it was loaded, she was unwilling to risk that Jane would repeat in somnambulation the action that had nearly killed her. Only when that possibility was out of reach did she rush back to Jane's side, place her hands on those taut shoulders, and hold down. It was likely to be the only way she could ever get the upper hand physically, should Jane lash out. "Wake up. Jane, it's Maura. Wake up. I've got you."

Eyes flying open, visible terror and panic shining through the unshed tears, the detective gasped for air as she tried to sit up. "No!" She shouted as her mind tried to catch up with what was happening. The only thing registering was the fact she couldn't sit up and someone needed to shoot. Her hands ran to her side, looking for her gun. "Shoot him, damn it," she called out, eyes not seeing what was around her.

Even as her hands exerted firm pressure to hold Jane down, Maura's mind ran down the list of characteristics likely to indicate a predisposition to night terrors and highlighted those that matched what she knew of Jane. Recent physical and psychological trauma(s), anxiety, self-directed anger, inhibited aggression, depression, the ability to ignore pain. Classic. Not that this knowledge was at all helpful at the moment, Maura decided, and renewed her efforts to awaken the distraught brunette, or at least to reassure her in her terrified state. "Wake up, Jane, I've got you. You're safe. It's done. It's okay, Jane, you got him. You shot Bobby. It's over."

Maura's voice filtered through Jane's mind. _"It's over."_ The detective stopped struggling. "Maura?" Her gaze flickered to the coffee table and then back to the small woman holding her down. "What are you doing here?" She motioned to be let up. "What's going on?" Her voice was tired. Where there normally would be anger at having her quiet time interrupted when she clearly said she wanted to be left alone, there was only an empty hollowness. "Why are you here?"

One quick but piercing visual examination later, Maura released Jane and sat back, having decided that she really was awake this time. Why _was_ she here? "I brought you some dinner. You've lost a little weight recently, and I think it's because you don't bother to cook, so I brought you one of your favorites." Fact: she had brought dinner. Fact: Jane was thin lately, too thin. Fact: Neither of those were Maura's reasons for being there; they were just her excuse. There was no need to mention how worried she'd been every time Jane didn't answer her phone. For one thing, her best friend obviously didn't need the pressure of feeling like everyone was checking up on her all the time, which of course they had been. For another, Jane already knew that Maura worried about her... and Maura knew that Jane was supremely annoyed by that.

"I'm not hungry," Jane's eyes ran around the room. She was clearly looking for something. "And that's not why you're here." She leaned back against the sofa, running her hands over her face and through her sleep tousled hair. "I promised you I'd have dinner with you tomorrow after work, Maura. You didn't have to check on me tonight." She gave a heavy sigh. "Ma does that enough without any help." With a look bordering on anger, she glanced at the clock. "Actually, she'll probably be here in another half hour. It's like clockwork these days." Her eyes were empty despite the irritation she was trying put in her voice. "How much did you hear before I woke up?"

"Enough," replied the smaller woman as she stood up and fetched Jane's gun for her, "to know that you're not staying alone tonight. You can pack a bag, or I can stay here. You can think it over while you're eating your spuckie; and before you speak again, I want you to take note of the fact that I am not being soft and polite at this time."

"Fine." Jane waved her hand as she stood, not bothering to take the offered weapon. "Just put it back on the coffee table where you found it." She slowly made her way to the table, sat, and stared at the food. "Since when did you start being the bossy one?" She picked her fork up, picking at the food before her. "I was pretty sure that was my job."

Maura placed the gun where Jane had left it, then sat down opposite Jane and picked up her knife and fork as well. She did not respond directly to the lackluster attempt at humor, but as she cut the spuckie into bite sized pieces, she noted, "I want to see you eat half of that sandwich." Jane _would_ take care of herself, said Maura's tone and raised eyebrow. Once the body's needs had been met, she would be more free to take a look into the real trouble.

"Or what? You'll force feed me?" The brunette rolled her eyes. "Go home, Maura. I'll be fine." Jane stood, walking toward the bathroom. "Lock the door on the way out."

Maura dropped her fork and stood as well, blocking the straightest path to the bathroom. There were other pathways, but Jane would have to swerve. "Yes, Jane, if you would prefer to do it that way, I'm willing to force feed you. I'm also willing to attempt to force you into bed and tie you down, if it will keep you from getting up and grabbing that gun in your sleep and accidentally shooting yourself. You need to take responsibility for your own health and safety. This is not a discussion. As a doctor and as your friend, I am under the strongest of obligations to do this on your behalf. Now, unless you have to urinate badly right at this moment, Jane Rizzoli, I suggest you place your posterior upon that chair and eat that spuckie before I make you do it. I watched you shoot yourself because you had no other viable option, but I'm not going to watch you self-destruct now while thinking only of yourself."

Anger. There it was, and it came out full force. "Hey, first of all," Jane leaned over Maura, using her height to add an extra dimension to her anger, "The gun was unloaded and the chamber was empty. I thought I taught you better than that. Second of all," her voice was rising as the anger took hold, "I was cleared by the precinct shrink, so who are you to imply that there's anything wrong with me? Huh? Who are you to come in here and start making demands about things you _think_ I should be doing? You're not my mother. You're not my girlfriend…. Boyfriend," she shook her head as she stammered on, "_Whatever_. What right do you think you have? Man," Jane's eyes blazed as she continued her rant, "I'm _so_ fucking tired of how everyone is treating me. It's like I'm some sort of… of china doll that is going to break at any moment. Fuck that shit. I'm the same person I've always been. I was Detective Jane Rizzoli before Marino, and I'm still Jane Rizzoli after that bastard. I'll eat when I'm hungry. I'll sleep when I want to, I'll date when I'm ready, and I'm not giving up my job. Now, get the hell out of my way, Maura." Jane's dark eyes dared the doctor to remain in her path.

Many a short person, when confronted by someone taller, tilted the chin upward in order to see them better, but not Maura. Accustomed to Jane's superior height as she was, the smaller woman dropped her chin level by a good centimeter and remained exactly where she was, tempting the anger further. In truth, it delighted her, because it showed that Jane did have some fire in her, after all, some resistance. "Or what?" she asked quietly, hiding her relief at the danger she saw sparking within Jane's darkened gaze.

"Or what?" Jane rolled her weight back to her heels. "I'll move you myself is what. This is _my_ apartment. That," she pointed to the door a few feet behind Maura, "Is _my_ bathroom, and you," she moved to point at the woman still in her way, "Are in _my_ way. Don't force my hand, Maura. I'm warning you. I'm sick of this shit, of having people tell me what to do all the time because they don't think I can think on my own. I got news for _all_ of you," she pushed her index finger in closer to the doctor until it was resting in the dip of the blonde's collar bone, "I can think for myself, _thank you_." Again, the brunette leaned forward, leaving her finger where it rested. "Now, move. I have to pee."

Maura pursed her lips. "Telling me that would have been faster than arguing," she mentioned lightly as she hesitated, then gave way. "However, since arguing seems to be more satisfying for you tonight, I don't mind continuing when you've finished."

"God," Jane yelled out as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

A few moments passed before Jane stepped back into the kitchen. She quietly made her way to the table, sitting down with a look of distaste at the food still on her plate. "I look like hell, don't I?" The question was flat, really more of a statement. She took a bite of her sandwich. Chewing slowly, she glanced up at Maura, raising an eyebrow to ask for confirmation.

Maura was already seated and had eaten half of her own sandwich, having been neglecting nutrition quite often lately herself. As well, she'd wanted to be able to focus on Jane, make sure she was eating, and so she'd inhaled what she could - heedless of manners or mess - while Jane was in the bathroom, washing her hands, and noticing her own thinness and pallor. "You certainly don't look well," she agreed, though the weight was lifted from her shoulders as Jane ate that first bite. "You haven't been eating or sleeping at all correctly since you were released from the hospital."

Sensing imminent interruption, she rushed on, eyes steadily upon Jane as she drove home her sincerity. "Please, Jane, just listen. I know your psychiatrist cleared you for duty, and I don't think that was a mistake. You need to do your job. As a non-professional in that field, I nevertheless feel he was right to say that getting back to work will be a very important part of your long-term healing process. I don't want you to believe that I think of you as being incapable or weak. I don't. I think you're everything a cop should be, and more. I just..." Now she did waver, biting her lips together and turning her head downward. "I miss you."

Three bites later, Jane answered in a lowered voice, "I'm sorry. I don't really mean to avoid you, Maura. I just haven't felt like going out lately." Leaning back from the partially eaten meal, she frowned. "You're right. I'm not sleeping well. It's really," she swallowed, "Being alone is getting hard for me, and I don't really know why. It never bothered me before. Even after Hoyt, I wasn't like this." In a practiced move, Jane rolled her eyes upward to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. "Ma is driving me crazy. The other cops are acting like I should be sainted. The only good thing about all of this is the fact that my bad ass status increased by, like, a thousand." A humorless chuckle escaped before she could finish her thought. "No one in town will give me any kind of shit about anything. I guess I should at least be thankful for that." She shrugged. "Truthfully, I'd give up the new rep if I could just get a decent night's sleep. But, every time I try to sleep… When Ma's here and in the same room, I can sleep okay. But, I think her nagging is worse than my sleep deprivation. I just," she sighed, picking at the food on her plate, "I just… need… _something_. I don't know."

"That's why I'm here," Maura finally answered the question Jane had first asked. "I know you can't sleep, and I know why, and I want to help. I'm staying with you." One hand slipped onto the tabletop and lay there, palm down. It wasn't an overt offer, which Jane would have to accept even if she didn't want, or reject and risk hurting Maura's feelings. It was just there, resting easily, and she could pretend not to even see it, no harm done.

"You telling me that you're the something I need?" A genuine chuckle came this time. Her eyes landed on Maura's downturned hand, and she began to reach for it before suddenly pulling back and clasping her hands together on her lap. "Are you sure about that, Maura? I mean, you don't even… wait… _Do_ you have any clothes over here?" She rolled her eyes. "I can't keep track. I know you've got a few shoes in my closet for," she raised her hands to make air quotes, "just in case."

Maura's hand didn't move, but she did look a little abashed as she said with a smile, "I've started keeping a couple of changes in my trunk. Just in case. You know, several different studies have shown that most living creatures sleep better when in the company of other living creatures, especially when in physical contact. Heartbeats and breathing rates tend to synchronize during the crucial relaxation stages, and then there's the added warmth, and it all contributes to a feeling of safety and security. Sleep is longer, deeper, and dreams are documented to be much more pleasant. So, yes, you need me. Or, well, you need someone. Maybe I do, too," she finished off more quietly. "You weren't the only person who underwent trauma that day, though yours was by far the worst."

"Maura, I'm sorry. I should have known," Jane's voice was soft, full of concern. This time, she did reach for the offered hand, though only her fingers touched Maura's. Maura sniffled delicately as she inched her fingers forward just a tiny bit, till they were slightly under Jane's. The detective's face instantly went from distraught to concerned. "You should have told me… I guess we should both be talking more." Pulling her hand back, she stood, picking up the half eaten sandwich. "Why don't you go get your clothes while I clean up? I promise I'll finish this," she held up the plate, "tomorrow. You can borrow something of mine to sleep in, if you want." She stood, waiting for approval for her plan, her face still showing concern for her friend.

"Thank you," the blonde responded hoarsely, throat constricted, but didn't move for several seconds. Then she stood and picked up her keys from beside the door, heading outside to fetch her overnight valise.

Jane grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from her room to leave in the bathroom for Maura and then made quick work of cleaning up. She nodded toward the bathroom when the doctor returned, indicating she could take her turn first.

Maura didn't take nearly as long here as it would have taken in her own home; her grooming supplies were minimal and therefore her routine was stripped to essentials. She had brought her own pajamas, but once she saw the t-shirt waiting for her in Jane's bathroom, her own seemed unsatisfactory, so she accepted the tee. The shorts, she decided not to wear, leaving them where they were neatly placed on the cabinet; wearing clothing at all during their once-frequent sleepovers was a concession to the strong probability that - given the high level of discomfort she had exhibited when Maura had worn a low-cut corset as part of an undercover operation, months ago - Jane wouldn't appreciate having her naked.

Jane finished the dishes as Maura prepared for bed and had just fixed the bed when the doctor walked into the room. "I hope that's okay to wear. I know how you feel about cotton, but it's all I've got." She frowned. "Maybe you should just keep a set of those pajamas you like to wear here?" Grabbing her night clothes from the top of the dresser, she made her way to the bathroom. "I'll be back in a few."

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


	4. Chapter 4

Normally when Maura was sad, scared, or confused, she would go to her best friend, but when her best friend was the one who had inspired those feelings, to whom could she run? One or two decisions hadn't been among her best, over the weeks of Jane's recovery, and what made them worse was that they hadn't had the desired results. The sex wore her out without providing any true release from what was really making her tense. Afterward, sleeping with another body beside her had provided warmth and physical relaxation, but no real comfort. Once she'd even borrowed Joe Friday from the Rizzoli's, and that did help, but not enough. She'd returned the dog the following morning, knowing she'd never get home from work in time to walk her before her carpets were threatened. Bass was a good pet for her, demanding care but not attention, but he wasn't much in the way of companionship when she needed it, either. Maybe having Jane beside her, the source of her own recent psychological issues and also her best friend and source of comfort, would help her as much as it would help the detective. It had been too long since she'd slept well, too. Horrors now decorated her dream landscapes, visions of Jane hurt, Jane bleeding, Jane dying, Jane recaptured by Hoyt and pinned to walls, floors, and once, after a documentary on the History Channel, to the front gate of Auschwitz.

The light was on when Maura arrived at her side of the bed, so she flicked it off before lifting the covers and slipping beneath with a sigh of relief.

A long moment later, Jane made her way to her bed via the faint light that trailed in from beneath her bedroom curtains. She silently slipped between the covers, turning on her side to face the other woman. "Maura, are you wearing anything besides my t-shirt?" There was the slightest hint of humor behind the question.

"Of course," Maura replied, chuckling in response to that tiny sliver of humor, of hope. "Under...things. Panties. I just don't really care for much in the way of excess fabric. Not unless it's cold." She lay in her standard meditation pose, though she wasn't meditating: stretched flat on her back, hands lightly resting on her rib cage, pillow elevating her head, neck, and upper shoulders just slightly for optimal breathing posture.

"Had to ask since the shorts are still in the bathroom," Jane inched closer. "I.. I don't really know how to ask this," her voice was strained with just a hint of unease and fear. "Maura, would you mind… I mean, would it be too weird to ask… God, I can't believe I'm even saying this, but could you," the detective let out a frustrated groan, "Would you mind if I just sort of, oh man, this is too weird. Forget I said anything." She rolled over in a huff. "Good night, Maur," she grumbled as she settled into her normal sleeping position.

Maura rubbed her lips together in thought, smoothing out the last of the balm she'd put on them after washing her face. It took nearly two minutes, according to the shining digital readout on Jane's alarm clock, before she sorted out the question. "I don't mind," she replied, rolling to face her best friend's back. "Come here."

Without a word, Jane rolled over to take refuge in Maura's arms. She snuggled quickly into the warmth she found there, breathing in deeply. "Thank you," she whispered against her friend's neck. It didn't take long for Jane to drift into what seemed to be a peaceful sleep as Maura cradled her securely in one arm, stroking her hair with the other hand. When her eyes closed, it was not in sleep, but in appreciation of the exquisite feeling of exactly what she had needed and not gotten. Jane had scarcely touched her since awakening in her hospital room, and she hadn't wanted to press and ask for it before Jane was ready. This was where she'd needed to be for weeks, holding onto her best friend and feeling her breathe evenly, sensing the steady heartbeat softly thudding out the message: alive, alive, alive.

A few minutes later, she allowed the rhythm to rock her into her first dreamless sleep since the shooting.

* * *

In the quiet of the apartment, the sound of the key turning in the front door echoed loudly enough to be heard in the bedroom. If Jane had been awake, she would have groaned in irritation. As it was, only Maura was awakened by the sound, though at first she couldn't identify exactly what it was. The ice maker in the freezer, clunking out a few more cubes? The neighbor girl, Marisa, coming home? It had only been about eight o'clock when they'd gone to bed, both so tired lately that neither had felt like waiting. Maura lifted her head to check the clock. Eight thirty-one. Probably the neighbor girl. Maura put her head back on the pillow and snuggled closer, though she did slip one of her legs outside the blanket; the nearness of Jane was delightful, but a bit warm.

Footsteps echoed through the apartment as the intruder broke through the quiet on the way to Jane's bedroom. "Jane?" Angela called out as she stepped into the doorframe of the darkened room. "Janie, are you in here?" She reached behind her to flip on the hallway light. As her eyes adjusted to the light streaming in to gently illuminate the bedroom, Angela let out a strangled gasp. "What?" Her face flashed between confusion and anger. "Maura?" The older Rizzoli's hand flew to her chest as the confusion grew greater. "What's going on here?"

Through the scene playing out in her home, Jane slept peacefully.

Maura lifted a finger to her lips and whispered, "Shh. I just got her to sleep. Give me a moment?" It took much slow, painstaking care to remove herself reluctantly from Jane's embrace and leave the room, closing the door behind her and gesturing to Angela to precede her into the living room. No one could accuse Maura Isles of being anything less than comfortable with herself; most people with messy hair, wearing panties and someone else's t-shirt, too tight across the chest, would have slouched and tried to hide, or at least, put on something else. Maura simply behaved exactly as if she were in her favorite Chanel dress and Manolo Blahnik shoes, cosmetics and hair perfect. Voice still low, so as not to disturb the first sleep it looked like Jane had gotten in days, she asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Angela gave the doctor an accusing look before answering, "Yeah, you can tell me why you're in bed with my daughter. What's going on between the two of you? Why are you wearing her shirt? Where are your _pants_?" Angela's voice was getting shriller with each question despite the fact that it remained quiet for the sake of allowing her daughter to sleep. "How long has this been going on? Why didn't either of you _tell_ me?" She threw her arms up in frustration. "Where's the trust? I'm her _mother_ for pity's sake." She crossed her arms in a manner very similar to a move her daughter often made. "And, Maura, for heaven's sake, cover yourself. I know we're both women, but, sweetie, have some shame."

Sending a nervous glance towards the bedroom where she hoped Jane still slept, Maura made 'lower' motions with her hand to urge for more moderate speaking tones. "As her mother, as someone who obviously loves her daughter as much as you do, you must have noticed that Jane isn't sleeping lately. She's irritable, nervous, and I'm afraid that it may be starting to affect her health. I came to bring her dinner, because I know she hasn't been eating well, and she was so exhausted that I suggested she just go to bed right away."

Her timber was all rationality and reason, but not without gentleness as she went on, "But the nightmares aren't allowing her any rest. I remembered reading several studies that demonstrate the dramatic ease of sleep - easier to achieve, lasting longer, and with more effective rest and dream cycles - when accompanied by another living being. Since Joe Friday was with you, and since I haven't slept well since my best friend was shot, I decided to solve both problems and just stay the night. I'm wearing Jane's shirt because... it's comfortable. And no, I don't believe I will cover myself, since all the blankets are on your daughter's bed, and I'd rather not disturb her rest, now that she's finally asleep."

Angela's jaw flexed as she worked out the anger she felt rising at having someone tell her about her daughter. "Yes, I know about Jane's problems. Why do you think I come to check on her every day?" Her voice was returning to something resembling normal and quiet. "So, nothing's going on here? Is that what you're telling me?" Her eyes narrowed, much like Jane's did when she was trying to decide if she was being told the truth.

Puzzlement trespassed across Maura's features as she tilted her head. "I've just told you something's going on - Jane's inability to sleep - and you just said that you already knew that." Pause. "Is there another question? I'm not good at discerning certain social cues..."

Running her tongue across the back of her teeth, Angela took a moment to decide if Maura was serious. Since Jane had made friends with the doctor, Angela had noticed how quirky the blonde could be about some social issues that she considered to be common sense. Opting to give the younger woman the benefit of the doubt and remembering the stories Jane had told her of how literal Maura tended to be, she replied, "You and Jane aren't in a … a... relationship? You know, like girlfriends?" She winced as the next word left her mouth, "_Lovers_?"

"Oh," Maura said, smiling as the confusion was cleared, then looking down at her hands. She didn't have a ring to twist, so she contented herself with examining her fingernails. "No. I'm here as her friend, her very concerned and worried friend. We're not lovers. I don't think it's very likely that we ever will be, either. I don't think Jane would ever be comfortable with that."

They stood in silence for a moment. Maura examining her hands. Angela examining Maura.

"You know," the older woman began in a light, conversational tone as she motioned for Maura to follow her to the sofa, "You ever notice how picky Jane is about people?" It was a seemingly random turn in the conversation from just a few moments before, but the ease in which Angela switched gears allowed the shift to be seamless, and Maura simply followed the older woman's lead.

Angela sat down, patting the sofa to indicate Maura should do the same. "Some people she barely gives the time of day to. Some people, she'll talk to, but she doesn't touch them, and I mean _ever_, like her cousin Jack. He's a little … greasy, if you know what I mean, but a likable guy. Jane'll talk to him, shoot the breeze, but she never so much as gives him a pat on the back. Some people, she'll hug, like me or Frankie. But, I've only seen her touch one person with something other than what I'd think of as… as…_familial_ love. That's a word, right? Familial?"

Maura nodded, barely looking up from her fingernails. "Familial meaning of the family, or filial meaning brotherly or sisterly. Both Latin in origin."

"That's what I thought." Angela gave the blonde a warm, patient smile. "Anyway, it's the same person she normally lets touch her hands. Did you know that I haven't been allowed to touch her hands since… well, since? My Janie, she's very particular about her personal space and boundaries. You ever notice? Frank and I talk about it all the time." She patted doctor's arm in a reassuring way as she stood. "But, enough talk. You look like you could use some rest, too. I'll just let myself out." With that, she headed for the front door.

Maura stood, knowing her duty as surrogate hostess, and walked Angela to the door. As she opened it and stood behind to shield herself from view, she hesitated. "Mrs. Rizzoli? I... Thank you for being such a great mother for Jane. As much as she wishes she didn't, she needs you, and you're always there for her. It probably doesn't even occur to you that there's any other option. I think that's kind of wonderful."

"Thank _you_, Maura, for being what you are for my Janie. She needs you, you know. I'll just leave her alone tomorrow. I think you have everything covered, right?" With a smile and a little wave, the elder Rizzoli walked away.

Maura turned the bolt and flipped the security lock with a little smile, then padded back to the bedroom. She wanted to get back into bed and Jane's arms before Jane woke alone... and, if she was honest, before Jane could feel awkward about it. Some social cues passed her right by, but she could spot awkwardness a mile away, being well experienced at it herself, and didn't want her friend to feel that way. Not tonight, not when sleep was finally possible.

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


	5. Chapter 5

Jane woke slowly. The morning light was bright, and she groaned as she buried her face in the crook of Maura's neck to hide from the outside world. "Light bad," she grumbled, groping blindly for the covers while trying not to move her face too much, "Sleep good." She pulled the cover over her head and, coincidentally, Maura's. "Work later." Her left hand made its way back down to find Maura's right, threading her fingers through the doctor's before drifting back to sleep.

* * *

Awareness came to Maura very slowly. First she realized that she was not, in fact, flying naked through a lightning storm, riding the clouds and controlling the winds. Then the weight of the body atop hers began to register, and she exhaled a hum of lazy appreciation at the evaporation of her dream and the misted perception of the real world beneath the haze of fading sleep. She half-stretched, enjoying warmth, heartbeat, breathing, a face nuzzled against her pulse point, muscular but very slim legs tangled with her own. She'd actually slept, actually felt refreshed for the first time in who knew how long, and this awakening seemed so pleasant that she didn't want to strive too hard to remember where she'd been, what she'd done. Let her daydream just a little more before opening her eyes, discovering with whom she had made this most recent mistake, and having to dress and rush home from wherever she was.

Still, she was a thinking being, and could not turn off the part of her mind that catalogued experiences. The sounds filtering in through the closed window were muffled, but there was familiarity to them somehow, a car starting with a catch in the engine, city bus driving by with its heavier, lumbering size. The smell was familiar too, and as she realized what was missing, her body told her that there had been no sexual activity the previous night, nor any alcohol involved. Great, no drinking to blame for whatever had happened, and no release of cold-warding chemicals from the brain.

When she went to move her hand, she found it was already caught in another, and so she idly toyed with it, wondering whose it was. Her fingertips found other fingertips, short of nail, rough of skin, slender; they moved upward to find a wrist free of coarse hairs at the same time that other physical sensations told her that she was lying beneath a female body. A very fit one. Well, that wasn't really unexpected lately, Maura reflected. _I wonder what poor woman I used as a substitute this time? I hope I don't know her. I'm such a cad. This has to stop._

The feel of Maura's hand pulling away to caress her wrist made Jane grunt in disapproval. In her half asleep state, she grabbed at the hand, pulling it back where it was, slipping her fingers between Maura's again. "No moving. Comfortable." Jane sighed, wiggling to find her comfy spot again.

Maura's eyes flew open, only to be met with the underside of the sheets, white as they screened delicate eyes from direct morning light. That voice. _Oh, God, I didn't...?_ she thought in panic, then realized that no, she hadn't. Her body hadn't lied to her; there had been no sexual activity. Held breath released slowly as memory returned and muscles relaxed. Tension soothed, until at last she was in the same position in which she'd awakened. Jane was right. This _was_ comfortable. "Mmhm," she agreed belatedly and smiled, her cheek stirring against the other woman's temple.

They lay, intertwined as they were, for a peaceful moment before Jane blew out a gust of discontent air. "I don't want to go to work today," she bemoaned against Maura's neck. "Let's just stay here and pretend to be sick." She smirked, "I can fake sick really well when I need to. I even fooled Ma… once." With a chuckle, she opened her eyes, pulling back to look at Maura, causing the bed sheet to raise a little. "What do you think? I think I could sleep for another three days. They won't miss us." She gave her best Rizzoli smile and a squeeze of their interlocked hands as means of persuasion.

As relaxed as she was, suddenly Maura was wide awake. Jane's gravelly, husky voice right in her ear sent shivers up one side of her, goosebumps down the other. Mentally she listed all the hormones that had awakened and started to multiply, turning "let's sleep longer" into "let's stay in bed all day" in her mind. She heard what was being said, but all the closeness of the previous night and the current moment, after weeks of a complete dearth thereof, left her nerves taut as harp strings.

Maura attempted to control her breathing patterns and marshall her thoughts. She had to get to work. There was a stack of reports for her to examine, the work of the other medical examiners of Boston, not to mention a trio of intern applications for her to peruse. She couldn't call in sick when she wasn't sick, that would be lying. She couldn't shirk responsibility. She should say no, and urge Jane to get up and get moving as well. Besides, there was no way she could possibly take advantage of Jane in her fragile state, nor could she herself be expected to make a rational decision with anyone this close, let alone when it was actually Jane this time. _Say no. Say no. Say no._ "Okay."

Jane's eyes widened a smidge. "Really? That's all it took to get Maura Isles to tell a little white lie? I just had to ask with a smile? Geeze, I've been going about this getting you to lie thing all wrong." She chuckled again as Maura blushed. "We _have_ to go to work, Maura. You know that." She frowned, scrunching her nose up. "But, maybe we'll get lucky and be able to sneak home early? This sleep thing? Yeah, I like it." Her smile broadened. "I'm going to go hit the shower, k?" The detective slipped from under the covers, careful not to pull them down.

Rejecting her immediate impulse to tighten the hold of her left leg and right hand, Maura allowed Jane to leave the bed, and her rumpled and empty. "No we don't," she protested, certain it was too late but determined to try anyway. "I wouldn't even have to lie." She shifted around to sit up, hair a delightful mess, shirt askew, bare leg already hanging off the bed as if she were a breath away from just getting up and giving chase. "I could call Lieutenant Cavanaugh and tell him that you'd finally managed to get some sleep, and I was here looking after you because I was worried. That's all true." Fortunately, she did manage to stop before whimpering what she'd really wanted to say. _Come back to bed and stay here with me all day._

The dark haired brunette stopped in the doorway, turning around with a smirk playing on her features. "Let me think about this for a moment," she said almost playfully, "_You_, Miss Work-Before-Anything-Else, want to stay here at my place with me all day long just so _I_ can sleep some more?" She tapped her chin with her finger as she processed. "You know what I think? I think... I need to pee again. Now, while I'm in the bathroom taking care of business and taking a shower, if you _happen_ to call Cavanaugh while I'm out of earshot and you _happen_ to get his permission for us to take the rest of the week off to rest, since, you know, it _is_ Thursday, I couldn't stop you... now could I?" She winked, shook her head, and headed to the bathroom.

Maura debated for all of the time it took for the bathroom door to close, then took off like a shot, burning the wind to get to her phone. Halfway through dialing she realized how bad an idea it was to call right then, breathless from running, and blushing so hard she was likely to giggle and ruin the serious tone of what she intended to say. Only after taking a moment to catch her breath and square her shoulders, did she put on her most professional tone as she dialed and awaited pickup.

"Hello, Lieutenant Cavanaugh. This is Doctor Isles. I wanted to let you know that neither Detective Rizzoli nor I will be in today. No, nothing is wrong, exactly, but... Well, you know how tired she's been since the shooting. I'm afraid that in her current state," naked and in the shower, "she would not be able to do her job very effectively at all. I'm keeping her home today and tomorrow, based on my best medical judgment, and I'm staying to keep an eye on her. Thank you, Lieutenant. Yes, we'll see you Monday. You too."

She smiled as her finger tapped End Call. Sometimes it was so easy, she was almost ashamed of herself. Almost, but not quite. With a smug smile and a spring in her step, Maura headed back to the bedroom for her turn in the shower.

Jane walked out wrapped in a towel, her wet hair hanging about her shoulders in a haphazard way. In one hand, she carried her hair dryer, the other flew up to her mouth to try to stifle a yawn as she padded over to her dresser. "So, Cavanaugh said to have a good time off, didn't he?" She asked as she pulled out more night clothes. "Shower's all yours." She turned, a t-shirt in her hand. "Want this to wear back to bed?"

"Yes," Maura replied to both questions at once, plucking the shirt delicately from Jane's hand. "We're expected to be well rested by Monday morning, and ready to do our jobs. Until then, I suggest we spend as much time as possible in bed. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

* * *

Jane pulled on a pair of boy shorts and a tank top before drying her hair. She was still drying her hair when Maura returned to the room. It took her a few moments to finish, and, once she did, she frowned. "I hate how long it takes to dry my hair," she unplugged the dryer and set it on top of her dresser. "God, why am I so tired?" She yawned again as she crawled back into bed, not bothering to pull the sleep pants on that were resting in a pile on the floor by the bed.

Maura's hair took longer, but she dried it in the bathroom, and came out with it in almost the same tousled mess that it had been when she went in. At least her night shirt was different this time, a Red Sox shirt with cap sleeves that Jane had probably bought to show off her well-toned arms. She had removed every trace of makeup the night before, and today she didn't put any back on. The effect softened her appearance, making her look younger and less polished, and revealed the subtle freckling on her skin. It took only a few more moments to tidy up the discarded clothes they'd both left on the floor last night and take them to the stack washer in the hall closet (well, Jane's - Maura's would have to be dry cleaned), and then she too headed right back to bed. She couldn't let well enough alone, though. "Just lie still," she said as she grabbed the combined edges of sheet and comforter. "I need to straighten these covers. You're a very vigorous sleeper."

"Really?" Jane grunted as she sat up in bed. "No, just get in bed," in a quick motion, the detective grabbed the smaller woman around the waist, pulling her down into the bed.

Maura shrieked as she fell onto the comforter, Jane, and all. "Jane!" she protested, but giggled like a schoolgirl having a pillow fight. Barry Frost, not to mention several others, would have cheerfully turned over their paychecks to see it. "I thought you wanted to rest today. All this rambunctiousness is not conducive to sleep!"

"So, get comfortable already," Jane teased as she released her hold and waited for Maura to arrange herself on the bed. It took just a few moments for both women to return to where they had been prior to showering. It took slightly less time for them to drift to sleep.

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


	6. Chapter 6

Jane awoke a few hours later to the sound of her friend breathing rhythmically. Quietly and carefully, she slipped away, closing the bedroom door behind her on the way to the living room. As usual, her home was quiet, and, as usual, her internal thoughts were not.

As she sat on her sofa listening to the hum of her fridge behind her, her mind raced back through Hoyt. She glared at her hands, squeezing them to work the soreness out. The memories of how she'd lashed out at her mother during her recovery flashing through her mind. Sitting forward, she dropped her head down, running her hands over the back of her neck. Her thoughts moved forward to Frankie shooting Hoyt's new apprentice in her bedroom, the same place Maura now peacefully slept. If not for her, her brother would never have had to kill anyone. She sighed as her mind raced to Marino, and, then, Maura's face as Jane went down from the bullet wound. A guttural whimper escaped her lips. She closed her eyes against the memories of Maura telling her she missed Jane.

"I keep hurting people I love," she mumbled to herself. "It always winds up being my fault."

With a trembling hand, she reached out to pick up her weapon, still unloaded, clip still on the coffee table. She held it in her hand, turning it slowly over and over as her mind replayed every instance where her presence had caused such massive amounts of hurt and grief.

"I need it to stop," she whispered into the quiet of the room.

* * *

The sound of running water heralded the second tooth brushing of the morning for Maura. She'd brought her fennel flavored toothpaste this time, as well as lemongrass shampoo, coconut and lime hair conditioner, and lemon-ginger body lotion. She smelled of fresh, summery food; the sheets would smell like some tropical mixed drink collection for days even after she left.

When the water stopped running, rustling sounds came from the bedroom. When Maura came out, she wore barely more than she'd worn to bed, having added nothing but a pair of Jane's jeans. Baggy on the lankier woman's frame, they were a bit tight on Maura's curvier body, but not uncomfortably so. She was barefoot, thumbs hooked into belt loops like she'd seen someone doing on a jean ad billboard near a crime scene recently, and smiling.

At least, she was smiling until she caught sight of Jane's dejected posture, heard her whispering. "Jane?" she called softly from the hallway even before padding towards her friend's side. "What happened? You seemed so much better."

Lost in her thoughts, the detective missed the sounds of Maura waking up and the doctor's voice startled her. With a loud clatter, the weapon in her hand fell to the floor. "Maura," she leapt from the sofa as if she'd been hit with a jolt of electricity. "Nothing. I'm good... fine. What are you doing up?" She reached down to retrieve the gun that was now halfway beneath the coffee table. "I was just... I was... are those my jeans?" She looked up from where she was bent over. "Are you hungry? I can make you something after I put some pants on." She stood, placing the weapon back on the coffee table. "Obviously not _those_ jeans, but, you know, a pair." She started toward her room, making a wide path around the doctor.

Maura dodged into her path and waited as they nearly collided. "Please, don't do this," she asked softly, one hand stealing over to take Jane's, something neither had been comfortable doing from the shooting until just the night before.

"Don't put pants on? Come on, that's not fair. _You_ get to have pants. _I_ should get to have pants, too." Jane pulled her hand away, taking a few steps back. "I'll just grab some pajama bottoms. It'll only take a sec, promise." Taking a side step, she tried for her bedroom again.

Hazel eyes narrowed, not in challenge but in scrutiny. "While you're putting them on," she finally decided, stepping out of the way only to follow right along, "you can tell me what helped you so much last night, and then what made you sink right back to where you were when I got here yesterday."

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


	7. Chapter 7

"You know, maybe taking off a few days was a bad idea," Jane said as she opened a drawer to pull a pair of pajama bottoms out. She held the pants in her hand, looking down at them as she chewed on the inside of her lip, again lost in her own thoughts. "Maura," she started, her voice quiet, "Why is it my hands always hurt worse just after I wake up or just before I go to bed? I mean, why is it they never hurt when I'm working out or tying to, you know, use them a lot?" She tossed the pants back into the drawer and walked to her bed, not bothering to stop her thoughts to let the other woman answer. "I always wonder, and I never ask Dr. Stone when I see him. I always mean to, but I forget. There's always something else wrong, and I get distracted." She sat on the edge of the mattress, scooting back until her feet dangled slightly. "Ma says it's because of the weather changes, but I think they hurt all the time, but I only notice it just after I wake up or just before I go to sleep because that's when I'm not distracted by anything else. Know what I mean?" She finally glanced at the doctor. "Constant pain is funny like that. Sometimes, you can pretend it's not there if you've got something better to distract you." She shrugged, looking down at her hands as they squeezed opened and closed.

Maura waited, leaning in the doorway and just listening, until distractions were mentioned. She pushed off the door frame and walked over to Jane's side. "Give," she beckoned, but didn't wait for compliance, simply reaching down to take Jane's left hand and thumb massage the palm. "You're partly right about distraction accounting for some of the cessation of pain. The rest likely comes from the constant movement, which does help in the same way that both exercise and massage help any other muscles and tendons to remain loose and flexible. However, I think that you're trying to answer my question, but you're speaking in metaphor, and I'm not entirely certain that I understand your meaning."

Jane forcefully pulled her hand away. "Then I guess you'll never get your answer then, will you?" She drew her legs up, pushing herself toward the middle of the bed and away from Maura. "Maybe you should go."

Maura nodded acceptance of the situation. "Maybe I should," she agreed, "but I won't unless you tell me directly to go. Don't say maybe I should, say you want me to go. Say you don't need me here, or want me here. Look at me and tell me that you don't want me to understand you."

"I don't," the brunette shook her head, "I can't, Maura. Okay? I just can't." She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "I can't," she repeated, resting her forehead on her knees. "Why can't you just be like everyone else? Even Ma stops pushing eventually. But, not you." Her voice was muffled, strained. "I can't tell you to go, but I don't want you here with me... like this." A tensed sob escaped.

Maura sat on the bed and scooted up beside Jane, enfolding that tightened fist of a body within her arms. "I know, Jane," she murmured into that dark hair. "I know you don't want anyone when you're like this, but you need someone, and right now, I'm it." She edged around until both her legs could wrap around Jane's rear and ankles in a full-body hug. "Since we're on the subject of wants and needs, let's talk about mine, too. I want to be here, with you. I need to see you like this. I want to be here for you. I need you to let me."

Jane's body tightened, pulling closer in on herself. "Why? God, Maura, why?"

"Because you don't scare me," Maura replied as she moved one of her hands to stroke Jane's hair back from her face. "You've been hurt a lot, and your pain hurts me, Jane. But it doesn't scare me. What would scare me would be if you became impervious to it. An impervious substance doesn't need to be strong. You aren't impervious. You still have soft, tender places in you that deserve to be handled with care. Those places are what keep you from being impervious, and make you strong instead. They're what I... what I admire in you."

"Soft spots are weaknesses, Maura. They're what make you break." Jane turned her head to face away from the prying eyes of her friend. "Weakness are what get you killed or the people around you hurt. I'm tired of being weak... I'm tired of the people I care about getting hurt because of me." She sighed heavily. "I'm just... tired of a lot of things."

Maura's finger very gently requested, not demanded, that Jane's face turn back to her. "Soft spots are weaknesses," she repeated, "and my hardened places don't hurt. Only my vulnerable places, my soft places, can be hurt. Am I weak? And if I am, then how could you possibly respect me, or like me, or even put up with me? Why don't you ever just turn around and walk away from me when those places are bleeding and tender, until I can... man up or shut up? Do you hate those things about me? Do you feel disdainful about those places in me? Am I weak, Jane?"

Jane resisted Maura's gentle request, keeping her head turned. "No, of course not." She pulled her chin away from the other woman's touch. "I care about you, why would I walk away if you were hurt?"

Maybe the other woman was right, maybe it was better that way. Maura gave up on trying to get Jane to look at her. "So you do understand."

Slowly, the brunette turned to look at her friend, unclenching her body as she did so. Frowning, she regarded the woman beside her. "I don't really deserve it, that kind of care." She looked away again. "Not really."

Gradually, the hand around Jane's shoulders began to rub against her back, a soothing touch rather than massage. Questions that could be asked in the dark of night simmered just below the surface in the late morning, sunlight through the bedroom curtains illuminating much that either might have preferred to keep hidden away. Maura didn't really know how to proceed in a way that was safe, that would allow her to remain simply a wise advisor. Then she realized that that was the point. She couldn't remain safe and outside. She had to dive all the way under, even if it meant freezing or scalding. It was with no little surprise that she decided that she wanted to do it, to freeze or scald, as long as she could be immersed in whatever this was. "I think you do. And I've got a healthy enough self-esteem to think that I might even deserve to be... here for you when you need me. Is it really this hard," she asked with quiet, but growing, amazement, "to imagine that I might be strong enough to love you?"

"I don't want you hurt, Maura. I've hurt you enough already." The words left Jane's mouth before her brain processed what, exactly, her friend had said with her last question. Her head shot around, eyes searching the blonde's face for answers to a dozen questions suddenly floating through the detective's mind. "To _love_ me?" Her voice held shock and surprise. Her face held skepticism. "What?"

Maura lifted a shoulder with European nonchalance and pointed out, "You started it." Sometimes schoolyard retorts were all a person had. "You said you cared about me, and why would you walk away if I was hurt. Now I'm asking you the same thing. Why, or for that matter how, could I walk away, knowing that you were hurt? Your pain doesn't scare me. It makes me sad, it makes me hurt, but it doesn't make me frightened. What frightens me is the thought that you might think that I don't deserve to be here for you when you need me. That I'm too weak to handle it when you're hurt. That I don't care enough to run to you, _ever_."

"It's not really _about_ you, Maura," Jane answered impassively, rearranging herself until she was leaning against her headboard, legs stretched out in front of her, body away from Maura's. "It's not about you being weak. It's about _me_ being weak and having anyone see it. I don't like it." Jane's voice was quiet, tired. "It's about not wanting to deal with the pressure anymore, not wanting to continually disappoint everyone all the time. It's about not wanting to continue to hurt the people around me. It's about me. For once, I'm actually going to say that it's about me, and, right now, I don't really like me very much." She ran her hands over her face. "Why would I want anyone else to be close to someone I don't even like?" Pinching the bridge of her nose and scrunching her face up, she let out a long sigh. "It really would be easier if I just wasn't around. Sometimes, I really believe that."

Maura relinquished her hold on the taller brunette and swiveled so that she could still face Jane. "You're right, and I know I'm being selfish, putting myself into the equation that way. I apologize. I don't want to pressure you into anything, or make you think that I could ever be disappointed in you for any reason. I just... want you to realize that when you say you're not good enough, that's an attempt to remove my ability to think for myself and form my own thoughts about you. Believe me," she chuckled without humor, "it's hard enough to form coherent thoughts, without being told that I'm not allowed to have them in the first place. I guess that's the one thing you've ever done, or probably ever will do, that would hurt or disappoint me at all. This... this... ridiculous belief that I couldn't possibly _really_ like you, respect you, care about you, or want to be close to you. I do, Jane. And it would be so, _so_ much harder without you around, so I hope that you always will be."

"You'd find someone else... another best friend, if I were gone." Jane gave a hint of a smile. "They'd be lucky to have you." Her frown returned, deepened. "I know you're here, and I know you want to be here. I _believe_ you when you say it, but, Maura, I feel so alone. You can't possibly understand how isolated I feel most of the time. You're my friend, and I value our relationship, probably more than you know. But, I need... something. I need... I don't know what. Maybe Ma's right. Maybe I _do_ need to quit my job and find a man. Maybe I _would_ be happier if I were married and had someone to come home to everyday. Someone who loved me for me, who wasn't disappointed in the things I did or didn't judge me for the things I didn't do. Someone who was okay taking care of me when I needed it. You know? But, then again, if I did that... if I became what Ma really wants, I wouldn't really be me anymore." She shrugged. "I'm not me now. I was me, but, then, something happened, and it wasn't the shooting." She gazed into her friend's eyes, looking for an answer. "Am I crazy to think my mother's constant nagging has finally gotten to me? Maybe... maybe she's right, and I'll never find anyone who loves me like that if I stay a cop? Maura, what if I die alone? I _could have_ died alone." She closed her eyes, trying to shut the thought out, but not succeeding.

Maura sat back on her heels, stunned to the marrow, unable to speak or move for what seemed a very long time. Dismay grew in her, clutched at her heart, cold as yesterday's dish water. When she found words and articulated them, her voice was distant. "I thought I was getting so good at communicating with... people. With you. Apparently I'm still not much better than a... something that isn't very good at communicating."

"Jane, my..." She sighed and abandoned the search for an appropriate noun, words hanging useless all around her. "All I've desired is to be those things for you. All I've tried to do is be those things for you. I've been trying so hard. Haven't I been _any_ good at it?"

"You've been an incredible friend, Maura. I'm not saying you haven't been." The brunette pulled her legs up, crossing them before dropping her hands in her lap. "What I'm saying is that I think I need more than just a friend. I mean, I need you. Don't get me wrong. But, you're my friend; you're not my boyfriend… girlfriend… _whatever_." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand missing entirely the wry sadness that began to show through Maura's concern. "Friends can only do so much for each other, you know what I mean? I'm lonely, and, this time, it was as close to dying as I've ever gotten. I think the fact that Ma is right, that I don't have anyone in my life like that, it hit home while I was recovering. I could have died without ever having had the chance to share my life with someone the way Ma and Pop have done. I don't want to die alone." She sighed. "But, I'm not sure I'll ever find someone, either. I think maybe Ma's right about that, too. As long as I have this job, no one will ever want to be with me. But, I love this job. My life," she shook her head in frustration, "I'm self-destructing."

Maura looked down at her hands, giving herself a moment to swallow the doubt that would have surely been audible in her voice. "What if," she began, then hesitated like an acrophobic child at the tip-end of the high dive at a swimming pool as her head shook. She hated sentences that began that way, unless they were the beginning of science. What if we could make a flying machine, what if we could map a caffeine molecule, what if we could replace a failing human heart with the heart of a pig? Those were acceptable what-ifs. Not this. In normal conversations, what-ifs were just ways to hedge one's bets. They were cowardly.

_Use "I" statements_, a child therapist had once told her, _because they put you in the seat of your own strength._ Maura shifted her posture so that she was just close enough to reach for Jane's hands, the physical evidence of one of those raw, tender emotional places that she so wanted to cradle and protect in her. "I don't want you to quit your job and try to be anyone that you're not. I don't want to sit in judgment over you. I'm never going to be disappointed in you for doing anything that you feel is right or necessary, or for not doing something that would make you feel bad. I want to take care of you when you need care. When you're lonely, I want to be the person you look to for companionship. I want to be your friend forever. I don't ever want to not be your best friend. We already have all of those things together, don't we?" She paused to once again swallow, because she'd done it, she'd leapt off the diving board, only to catch hold of it with her fingertips before going any farther down. Friends? She could retreat to that safety zone still. It wasn't too late to go back there.

Then it occurred to Maura that if she didn't speak now, it might be too late to ever let go and fall. She might never feel the terror of falling, that splash of surprise and chill as she hit, and all of a sudden she wanted that more than she wanted to feel safe. "Jane, tell me this, please. Is there anything else that I could be for you, that you want me to be, that I'm not already? _Anything_ that you need, that you want me to give you? Because... I will. Anything."

Again, she pulled her hand away from the doctor's touch. "I don't… I don't understand what you're asking me." Jane's expressive face filled with confusion and hurt.

Maura sat back, swiftly hiding that reaching hand back beneath its mate as she looked down again. It was so tempting to feel rejection, to back away and run somewhere small, dark, and safe to lick her wounds. So tempting, but she couldn't do it. This wasn't about her, it was about Jane, who hurt first and worse. No time to chicken down. If it would help Jane, she could not just show her tender places, but could grate at them, deepen the gashes and pry them apart. Bring on the humiliation, if for an instant it might show Jane that she had a third choice other than loneliness or entrapment. "I love you." No, she would not add any delicate window dressing to soften the statement. Jane already knew she was her friend; a disclaimer would only be another curtain to hide behind. If she was going to give anything, she had to give everything. Even if Jane didn't want her, Maura thought through the pounding of her pulse in her reddening ears, she'd at least know that _she_ was wanted.

Chewing at her bottom lip, Jane watched the blonde trying to decipher what her friend meant by those words, _"I love you"_. "You, love me?" She whispered, almost to herself. Her eyes narrowed. "You love me… as a friend? As a sister? As a colleague?" The brunette slowly licked her lips as she continued to watch the woman sitting in front of her. "There are a lot of different kinds of love, Maura." Her voice was flat, slowly turning unemotional as her face fell into the familiar mask of detective. "I would think that, as my best friend, you would love me in some way. If you didn't, why would you be my friend at all?" Tilting her head to the side, eyes falling into that hardened stated she often referred to as 'cop mode', she pressed the smaller woman. "What, exactly, do you mean when you say you love me?"

"You already know I respect you as a colleague and that I have strong affection for you as a friend," Maura parried, albeit gently. "I don't actually know what a sister would feel like to me, since I've never had a sister or been a sister, though since you ask, I rather think I can say with a high degree of confidence that I... I don't want to be your sister, Jane." She finally raised her eyes again to see the tank top clad woman's easy slide into interrogation style of 'conversation'. "I also don't want to be your perp. I'm trying very hard to avoid hiding behind encyclopedia mouth, so could you try not to hide, too? Just for a few minutes?"

"Okay," Jane gave a faint nod, "I guess that's fair." Closing her eyes, she tried to shake herself out of the state she had so easily fallen into. "But, I'd like a straight answer from you. My nerves are fried. I'm emotionally exhausted, physically tired, and frustrated in every sense of the word that I can think of. Just this once," her eyes pleading as much as her voice, "could you tell me what you mean instead of me having to pry it out of you with a crowbar? I'm too tired to fight with it anymore, Maura."

"I love you," Maura said simply, then repeated it several times with different inflections. Caring, concern, worry, protectiveness, gentleness, quiet humor, fervent request, intimacy. It was like an actor doing 'repetitions' exercises, but without the sense of effort or putting on something foreign or different. Over and over, "I love you," and sometimes, "I love you, Jane." She did not otherwise move, not to lean, not to turn away, not to touch those hands for which she had so often reached, not even to brush away a tear that fell down one cheek followed by several more of its kind. Gradually her voice became quieter, less a voice than a whisper, hoarse and almost choked from the explanations she somehow couldn't articulate in any other way.

Mouth slightly agape, eyes full of comprehension, Jane watched the scene unfold. Closing her mouth and clamping her jaw shut, she shook her head in the negative. Firmly, resolutely, eyes sparkling with determination, she shook her slowly no. Through clenched teeth, she took in a slow breath before quietly responding. "No." She stood, backing away from the bed. "No, Maura," her voice became more forceful with each word, fear seeping into her words. She backed to her chest, taking out her pants and putting them on as she spoke. "No. You can't. You can't love me like _that_." She wrapped her arms around herself as she leaned against the wall furthest from the end of her bed.

Cut off, Maura permitted herself to be silenced by Jane's refusal. Her lips pressed together, but she did not look away, needing the visual cues. Not that they helped; she still had to ask, "Does that mean you don't think it's possible, or that you don't want it to be?"

"It means… it means that… that it's _dangerous_." Jane's eyes fell to the floor. "Besides, why would you want to love someone as shattered as me? You could have anyone you wanted; you could do _whatever_ you wanted. You've got everything, Maura. You're smart. You're beautiful. You've got money to burn. There's not a person out there that wouldn't kill to have a shot with you. Why would you want to pick the one person that could hurt you as badly as I can hurt you?" Her eyes found Maura's face again. "I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore."

Maura allowed herself to nod in acknowledgement all along. "Yes, I am. I'm a catch. Not only can I do what I want, but I _am_ doing it. I'm serving justice every day, like you, and it makes me feel good. I have money, and it's a useful tool for making certain things easier, like your gun does for you. I wouldn't suggest using either one to assist in the area of romance, but I'll agree that either can be a nice thing to have, in certain circumstances." She shifted back to sit in the middle of the bed, leaning back onto her hands as her feet swung over the edge just above the level of the floor. "I'm smart and beautiful, which are also useful on occasion. So are you, so you already know how handy those traits can be. Now, put all that aside and think about what else is left. Without my money, looks, and brains..."

She sighed. "I give away money to faceless strangers through my charitable endowments. Anyone in my vicinity gets to look at me all they want, so any physical beauty I may possess is free for all. My brains are on loan to the city, where I hope they continue to do some good in the world. The only thing I keep for myself, the only thing I have that I can choose not to give to just anyone are my feelings. _I_ choose who gets to see those. _I_ choose where to give those. _I_ choose who gets to take those and hold them and keep them."

"I choose you, Jane. I know you'll hurt me sometimes, like right now, while you're telling me I'm not allowed to love you. I know I'll hurt you, too, like when I back away because I think you need me to give you space, when really you're just telling me you can't trust me to love you enough." Maura had stopped crying, but couldn't keep from sniffling. "There are times you've hurt me without meaning to do so, and I'm sure it will happen again. But I hope, believe, and above all _trust_ that you will never hurt me on purpose. The closest I think you'll ever come to that will be when you need something that I can give you, but refuse to take it from me."

Jane moved to the bed, sitting on the edge beside Maura. For a long time, she stared ahead of her. When she spoke, her eyes were distant, still looking at the wall ahead of her. Her voice was quiet and huskier than normal from the amount of internal turmoil she was feeling. "When you called yesterday and I ignored you, just before you came over? I had decided two things." She gazed down at her hands, spreading her fingers, palms down as if to inspect them. "I had decided not to swallow the end of my barrel, and I had decided I didn't want to do that because I'd promised you that I'd have dinner with you today. That's why the gun was unloaded when you came in. I wanted it to be harder for me to pull the trigger if I suddenly changed my mind, wanted to give myself a little time, a couple of seconds, to load the gun and think about it before I did it." Her hands slowly closed into fists. "I didn't stop myself because I was afraid Ma would find me, even though she would. I knew she'd be over sooner or later. It wasn't because it would hurt the family or upset my friends. It wasn't because _I_ didn't want to do it. I _wanted_ to do it." She closed her eyes, her hands falling to rest on her knees. "There's a part of me that still does. But, I don't want to hurt _you_ more, and I had made you a promise. I didn't want to break that promise and upset you." She swallowed, her eyes still closed. "God help me, Maura, you kept me alive, and it's not fair to put that kind of responsibility on anyone. That's a weight no one should have to carry… to be the sole reason someone decides they want to live another day. That's just too much pressure."

The blonde looked suddenly smaller as her face crumpled and her shoulders slumped as her hands flew up to cover her face. "_I know_," she sobbed, "and it's killing me that I can't do anything about it. I've never felt so impotent in all my life! I don't want to be the only thing that keeps you from doing that. I want you to be happy, and feel purpose and meaning in your life, and be with me only because you actually want to be with _me_." She removed her hands from her face, clenching her arms around her torso, clinging to herself alone. "But if the ability to keep you from harming yourself is the only thing I can give you, the only thing you're able to take from me, then I want the pressure. I'll take any amount of responsibility for your life. I'll take it all, and more, if you just please, please lay it on my shoulders. I'll even try not to love you, if you just promise not to leave me here."

"You don't have to make that bargain." Jane was quiet, reserved. "I don't want you to stop loving me. I don't think I'd ever want that." She opened her eyes, still blankly staring ahead. "I don't want to leave you, either, not really." She turned to face the woman crying beside her. Slowly extending her left hand, the one furthest from the other woman, she quietly offered it, palm up. "I realized last night before you came that I need help, Maura. I was okay for a little while, but I'm not anymore. I want to work it out. If I didn't want to work it out, we wouldn't be talking right now." She frowned deeply. "There was a time when I would have leaped at the chance to tell you how madly in love with you I am, but this is not the right time and not the right place to start listing all the times I've almost told you how I feel about you because it would just seem like I was using it to use you. I don't want to use you, either. I want to be the person that you deserve to have." She swallowed, not bothering to fight the tears. "Can we start there? Can we start with getting me there because I'd really like to find the right time and the right place."

Maura sniffled, or rather, snorted. It was an unattractive sound for an unattractive situation, tears and mucus buildup, red face, grated raw emotions lying like broken corpses all around and on her. But she took Jane's hand and tugged just a little, making it a request. She needed their closeness. "Yes. Please. And until you're wherever you need to be, to be able to... not be in danger?... will you stay with me, you and Joe? I don't mean you have to be in my room. I mean, unless you want to be there. I just, I need to be selfish for a little while, and I think I'll feel less scared if I know that you're not going home to an empty apartment."

Jane allowed herself to be moved to where Maura needed her to be. "Okay." She was relenting. "I think… It's going to take a while." She wiped at her face with her free hand. "I don't like that I'm not strong enough to deal with this on my own, but," she leaned forward, resting her forehead on Maura's shoulder, "I trust you. I scared myself last night. I don't want to do that again."

Unsteady hands snuck around Jane's waist with the faint air of a request for permission as Maura sought the warmth that their physical contact always brought. "Thank you for that. Will you... will you lie with me? I mean, for rest? I'm feeling so drained right now, but I don't want to go to sleep in case you need me, but if you're right here, then I'll know if you need me. Or if I need you."

"Yeah, I think I'd like that," pulling back to look the blonde in the eyes, Jane gave a very weak smile, her eyes still full of anguish. "But, you'll have to take your pants off first."

"Your pants," Maura reminded her, reluctantly breaking their contact long enough to stand, shuck the garment, and fold them nicely to set aside. "Do you want your shirt back, too?" As loaded as the question could have been, it was practical rather than seductive, and didn't even seem like an effort on her part. It really _was_ all about fatigue and comfort. Though, she did put the cap on it by adding, "I actually did bring my own pajamas. I just like yours better."

"Right, _my_ pants," with a shake of her head, Jane slid from the bed to pull her own pajama bottoms off. "No, keep it. You look better in it anyway." She sighed heavily as she settled into her place. "Do you want me to wear yours? Trade off?" This time, a smirk did form, though it quickly disappeared as she settled, waiting for the doctor to join her.

The smaller woman lay down beside her... friend with a sigh of relief and pulled the blankets over herself. "I don't need you to wear anything. In particular. Anything _in particular_."

"Mmmhmm," Jane responded as she moved Maura's arm so she could settle against the doctor's side, her left arm and leg falling across the smaller woman's body. "That's what _she_ said," the brunette quipped, her head settling once again in the crook of Maura's neck. "You know you're always trying to get me naked. I see what you're doing here." It wasn't Jane's normal, light hearted banter, but it was close. The fatigue was taking a toll, her body going limp, too tired to continue to be tense. "Maura, when we wake up again, make sure I call the shrink, okay?'

Maura nodded acceptance of the reminder even before registering the rest of Jane's words. "Okay... Wait, what? Who said that?" Her hands, which had run up that tense back and into the base of Jane's hair, stilled in their comforting strokes. "And by the way, no, I am not trying to get you naked. You being clothed doesn't make me uncomfortable. Though, I do hope that sooner than later, it'll be okay for _me_ to sleep normally."

Jane stiffened, "And how would that be?" Her voice was guarded.

Wincing, Maura attempted to edit, or at least soften, her statement. "Um, well, it's, it's just that when I'm alone, I'm not really, I, I just, not so much in the way of... um... fabric. But I'm okay," she hastened to add, arms hurrying to encircle Jane's shoulders and waist. "I don't mind, Jane, I really don't. Don't go anywhere."

"Not moving, comfy," Jane mumbled, her breathing starting to regulate. "But, if you want to sleep in the buff, who am I stop you?" She chuckled ever so lightly.

An inappropriate physical response initiated, but Maura clamped it down resolutely before replying, "The person that I always want to make comfortable. The person that I'm not going to put any pressure on, not even temptation, until after you're... safe. Now, hush." Soothing hands fingercombed through Jane's dark locks and drew down her back, quieting and calming. "Sleep."

Clinging to Maura as the lifeline she had become, Jane nodded in reply.

Later, when they awoke, she would keep to her word and call the doctor.

She would find a way to put herself back together.

She would figure out how to function again.

She would make it right so she could do right by the woman she was currently wrapped around.

Later…

But, for this moment, sleep was best, and Jane drifted effortlessly into sleep.

* * *

**_1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK) | 1-800-784-2433 (1-800-SUICIDE)_**  
**_US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline_**

**_For the hearing impaired in the US_**  
**_1-800-799-4TTY (4889)_**


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